


hopeless

by aberysywyth



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Childhood Friends, First Kiss, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, It's sappy babey!!, Light Angst, M/M, Minor Injuries, Soft Iwa, kind of 5+1
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-12
Updated: 2020-06-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:15:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24675976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aberysywyth/pseuds/aberysywyth
Summary: Oikawa Tooru is only sixteen when he falls in love. He just doesn’t know it yet.
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru
Comments: 6
Kudos: 110





	hopeless

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!  
> This is my first work that I've posted on here so any feedback is appreciated!  
> I hope you guys enjoy! :)

It’s no secret that Tooru is a hopeless romantic. 

Regardless of what his previous girlfriends say, he loves the grandiose displays of affection: proposing in public, dozens upon dozens of red roses, chocolates hinting at love, maybe more. 

Sure, soft smiles and touches are fine, he supposes. Gentle displays of love, quiet gestures. Though he is terribly oblivious to them.

Perhaps that's why it takes him so long to realize he’s in love.

///

Tooru is sobbing the first time they meet. 

The summer sun is sweltering, hot rays scorching Tooru’s uncovered skin as he plays in the creek near his house. He is eight, young and unafraid, and the only thing on his mind is catching the small, silvery fish that shoot through the water like stars. 

The water is cool, rising up to his bruised shins as he trips over slick rocks, brows furrowed in concentration as he grasps at the space where fish used to be.

There is a flash of silver and Tooru turns, arms shooting out. He jumps from one rock to another in a foolish attempt to catch the minnow, feet slipping out from under him on the algae-covered surface, and promptly busts his ass on the bottom of the creekbed. 

There are tears filling his eyes before he can blink, and his mom has always called him a soft child, always at the verge of crying, and this is no exception. 

He bursts into tears. 

Sobs wrack his whole body, and he realizes he’s probably being silly. His butt doesn’t even hurt _that bad_ , but these are his favorite shorts and he’s all wet now and what is he going to tell his mom? She’ll never ever let him come back if she finds out he got hurt, Tooru thinks. 

There is a rustle in the bushes behind him and Tooru whips his head around, fully expecting to see his mom there, glowering down at him, but, thankfully, it’s not his mother.

A boy stands at the edge of the creek, staring down at Tooru with mildly disgusted features. He is much more tan than Tooru, shoulders covered in a dense layer of freckles. The boy’s hair is short and spiky and he is staring at Tooru like he just kicked a puppy. 

“What’s the matter with you?” The boy asks, sounding annoyed. He makes his way down the rocky path to the creek with practiced ease, glaring at Tooru when he doesn’t answer immediately. 

His lip trembles softly as he says, in a voice clogged with tears, “I slipped and ruined my shorts.”

The boy scowls at him. “It’s just water, dummy.” And he’s right, Tooru realizes. He stands, peering behind him. He’s thrilled to note that there is, in fact, nothing on the seat of his shorts but water, and grins at the boy, all signs of tears gone, just as fast as they’d come.

He grasps onto the boy, smile widening at the blush that skates across his cheeks.

“Thanks, mean stranger!” He choruses, momentarily distracted by another glance of silver in the creek. 

The boy shoves him off with a frown. “My name’s Iwaizumi Hajime.” He grumbles, and Tooru thinks that no boy should be able to be _that_ grumpy, but he doesn’t mind.

He hums to himself. “Ah, nice to meet you, Iwa-chan! My name’s Oikawa Tooru.”

Hajime sputters at the nickname, chasing after Tooru as he scurries up the creek. 

“Don’t call me that!” He says, gripping Tooru in a headlock. Above, the summer sun beats down on their shoulders as Hajime dunks him under the cool water.

And that, Tooru thinks, is when it starts.

///

Iwaizumi lives only three streets away, and Tooru takes full advantage of this fact. 

The summer of his twelfth birthday is mostly spent in Hajime’s neat room, splayed on the floor, playing Mario Kart. Hajime, Tooru is devastated to find, is absolutely godly at the game, and he finds himself usually pouting at the screen, Hajime’s easy grin winking at him. 

“You’re so bad, Trashykawa.” Hajime smirks at him, pointing at Tooru’s character of choice, Peach. The screen mocks him cheerfully, displaying the bright 10th place that Tooru finds himself in.

He frowns at the other boy. “No fair, Iwa-chan! You can’t keep picking rainbow road.” 

“Winner picks, Trashykawa. Win and you get to choose.” Tooru pushes himself into Hajime’s personal space, draping himself over the other boy’s back. 

“You’re such a bully, Iwa-chan,” he drawls into Hajime’s ear, “you’ve had this game for forever.” Hajime, surprisingly, doesn’t push him away, letting Tooru remain half-draped over his back as he crushes Tooru in the next race.

Hajime knocks his head against Tooru’s with a grin. “What is it now, 10-1? It’s boring winning this easily.”

Tooru pouts at him. “Let’s do something else.” 

Hajime laughs, breath warm against Tooru’s cheek. “Not until you win, Oikawa. Then we can do whatever you want.”

Tooru steels himself. “This’ll be easy, Iwa-chan. Just watch me.”

It is not easy. Fifteen races later and Tooru still hasn’t beaten the other boy. He’s resorted to loudly complaining, sprawled out on the cool floor of Hajime's room, trying to kick the controller out of his hands. 

“Oy!” Hajime grumbles as Tooru’s foot grazes the side of his face. “Stop it.”

Tooru, with a smirk, leans forward, jabbing Hajime _hard_ with his elbow. He gleefully watches as Mario, Iwaizumi’s character, spills over the edge, and Peach pulls into first.

“Hey!” Hajime scowls at him, and without warning, grabs Tooru’s elbow and yanks, forcefully pulling his torso into Hajime’s lap. Tooru, with a squawk, goes down, yelling as Peach careens off the edge of a cliff. 

“You heathen!” He hisses, as Hajime crosses the finish line in first. He smirks down at him, eyes narrowed, and Tooru elbows him in the gut. 

Hajime pulls him into a headlock, furiously messing up Tooru’s carefully styled hair. 

“You’re the worst!” Tooru yells, pulling out of Hajime’s grasp. He grins at Tooru as he stands, offering him a hand.

“Let’s go outside. I got a new volleyball the other day.” Tooru harrumphs but takes his hand, letting himself be pulled up. 

“Don’t think I’ll forget about this, Iwa-chan.” Hajime smiles at him, quiet but genuine, before he pushes him towards the door.

“Like that’ll make a difference. I’ll still crush you either way.”

///

Tooru gets his first girlfriend at the ripe age of fourteen. She is tan, tall and graceful, with long, dark hair that goes to her waist. More importantly, her name is Megumi, and she is the most popular girl in the school. 

Oikawa is thrilled when she confesses to him in the hallway outside his classroom. _Imagine the power couple you’ll be_ , Tooru thinks to himself, as she hands him a neatly packaged letter. Though something seems wrong about the whole situation. 

He tells Hajime about her in their homeroom, grinning excitedly, and is surprised when Hajime scowls at him. 

“What’s wrong, Iwa-chan?” He asks, poking at the wrinkle between his furrowed brows. His friend’s frown only deepens.

“What about volleyball?”

Tooru looks at him confusedly. “What about it?” They joined the Kitagawa Daiichi volleyball team together their first year, and Tooru swiftly rose through the ranks, easily gaining the captain position. Though they still had to beat Shiratorizowa, he thinks with a frown.

“Will you still have time for volleyball?” Hajime asks, scowling. Tooru laughs at him, ruffling the other boy’s hair gently. 

“Don’t be silly, Iwa-chan. I won’t abandon you that easily.” Tooru is delighted by the blush that colors the other boy’s neck. The bell rings and Tooru squawks, straightening. 

“I’ll see you later, Iwa-chan!” He runs out of the classroom, ignoring Hajime’s splutters.

They walk home together that day after practice, and there’s not a single thought of Megumi in Tooru’s mind.

(Instead, they’re replaced by images of Hajime’s gentle blush and a boyish flash of teeth)

(He shakes it off, chalking it up to proximity)

Megumi breaks up with him three weeks later, despite the bundle of roses he had gotten her the week prior.

“You like volleyball more than you like me, Oikawa-kun. I’m tired of being ignored by you, so we’re through.” She tells him, ignoring the gathering crowd around the pair. He frowns at her. He had made an effort, at least. She had just wanted to makeout behind the school during lunch.

“If that’s what you want, Megumi-chan. I have to get to practice, so are we done?” Usually, he reflects, at the soft _oooo_ that goes through the crowd, he is not this callous, but he really doesn’t care about someone who doesn’t share his interests. 

She storms away, eyes dark, and the crowd disperses, murmuring to themselves. 

Hajime, from the back of the mass of people, emerges, pulling Tooru towards the practice gym. 

“What the hell, Oikawa. That was cold,” he grumbles. They’re still holding hands, Tooru realizes, and the feeling of sadness in his veins dissipates. “She didn’t deserve that.”

Tooru pouts. “She didn’t make an effort, Iwa-chan. She didn’t even come to our practice match.” Hajime gives him an indecipherable look, letting go of Tooru’s hand. He misses the warmth immediately. 

“You could’ve at least given her a second chance, Trashykawa. It was obvious she liked you.”

Tooru frowns to himself. “Honestly, I didn’t know anything about her. All she wanted to do was make out. And she wasn’t even that good at it.” 

Hajime laughs, wincing. “God, your personality is so shitty.” Tooru grins at him as he pulls up his kneepads. 

“I’ll find someone who likes my personality one day, Iwa-chan. It shouldn’t be too hard.” A soft blush skirts across Hajime’s cheeks as Tooru drapes an arm across his shoulders. Hajime gives him a sharp look.

“Sure you will, Shittykawa. Let’s go warm-up.”

///

“This is all your fault, dumbass.” Tooru flinches away from the words, the deep anger behind them. Hajime, who is sitting next to Tooru’s hospital bed, is scowling at him, brows creased with thinly veiled concern as he brushes Tooru’s bangs back.

He leans into the touch with a sniffle, heart clenching as Hajime’s face shifts into something soft. 

“I’m sorry, Iwa-chan.” He murmurs as Hajime’s hand comes up to cup his jaw. Tooru places his hand over Hajime’s and the tears start falling, hard sobs that wrack his whole body. He swore he wouldn’t cry but he can’t help it, not with the gentle look Hajime is giving him. 

Hajime rises, slipping into Tooru’s bed and pulling Tooru to his chest as if it’s the easiest thing in the world.

“You don’t deserve this, Oikawa, I’m sorry.” He murmurs, one hand carding through his curls, the other wrapped around Tooru’s waist. His sobs only increase, the pain in his knee flaring sharply as he shifts. 

They’re pressed together, head to toe, legs tangled, and Tooru can feel Hajime shudder softly as Tooru brushes his lips against Hajime’s collarbone. 

“Dumbass.” He murmurs again, but this time it sounds more fond. A pair of lips press to his forehead and Tooru sighs, something like relief filling his veins.

Because despite it all, despite the broken knee and the memory of pain still coursing through his body, Tooru has never felt safer. 

He falls asleep like that, Hajime’s gentle puffs of breath against the crown of his head, and Tooru dreams of soft smiles and the press of lips to his own. 

When he wakes up, Hajime is still there, features softened by sleep. Something settles in the bottom of Tooru’s stomach, a quiet warmth, as he looks up into Hajime’s face.

Oikawa Tooru is only sixteen when he falls in love. He just doesn’t know it yet.

///

They lose to Karasuno, and Tooru’s world crumbles around him.

For the first time in their friendship, Hajime cries. Tooru can do nothing but hold him, tears slipping down his face. 

They plan to rent an apartment after graduation, and plan to play volleyball in college. But it won’t be the same, Tooru realizes, meeting Hajime’s sad gaze as they, for the last time, play with their teammates. 

They go out to eat after, just the third years, and Makki and Mattsun are the same as they walk ahead of Tooru and Hajime, shoving each other off the sidewalk and laughing. 

Hajime brushes his hand against Tooru’s gently before he twines their fingers together. His eyes are soft as they meet Tooru’s.

“Do you want to be up there with them?” Tooru asks, because he knows this is the last time they’ll see each other for a long time. Hajime hums softly, giving his hand a squeeze. 

“I want to be with _you_.” He murmurs, smile turning up at the edges. “Why do you think I’m following you to ToDai?” Tooru feels his heart pick up. He grins back at Hajime, shoving his shoulder.

“You know what I mean, Iwa-chan.” Makki looks back, nudging Mattsun with a grin. 

“I win, Issei.” Tooru hears him say. Next to him, Mattsun grumbles something before he hands Hanamaki a few bills. Hajime snorts as Tooru gasps, affronted.

“You bet on us, Makki??”

“It was Mattsun’s idea.” Hajime lets go of his hand, running ahead and pulling Hanamaki into a headlock. Tooru, laughing, lets the weight that sits on his chest go. 

Maybe everything will be alright, Tooru thinks as he watches Hajime smile. Just maybe.

///

Between classes, practice, and Tooru’s newfound love of clubbing, he and Hajime don’t get to unpack their apartment until almost a month of living there.

Their flat is unsurprisingly small, with two tiny bedrooms and an even tinier living room that barely fits the small couch they managed to smuggle upstairs. Their kitchen has managed to go mostly unused in the month they’ve been there, but it’s nice, and Hajime keeps insisting that he’ll use it once they settle in more. Almost every surface in the apartment is covered in boxes.

They’ve been unpacking for several hours and Tooru loudly declares that he’s tired and wants takeout. Hajime, with an annoyed look, obliges him, slouching into the couch next to Tooru as he types in their orders.

Tooru rests his head on Hajime’s shoulder, and Hajime’s hand comes to rest on his thigh as he scrolls through Instagram, face warm. They’ve been toeing the line between friendship and relationship for a while now, Tooru realizes as Hajime’s thumb traces circles against the fabric of his jeans. For a long while now, if he really thinks about it. 

Tooru’s heart stops as they turn towards each other at the same time, noses bumping, and God. Hajime is so close, Tooru can practically count the freckles splattered on his face. 

Hajime’s eyes flick down, once, twice, towards Tooru’s lips and Tooru realizes the line was crossed a long time ago. 

Hajime’s warm breath fans across Tooru’s cheeks and he sighs, memorizing the soft lines of Hajime’s face.

And Tooru has been waiting for this since he was sixteen. He might as well. 

“Oikawa?” Hajime murmurs, dark eyes half-lidded.

Tooru presses a hand to Hajime’s cheek, confidence filling his veins as Hajiime leans into the touch. Then, gently, he presses his lips against Hajime’s. 

Hajime responds immediately, arms wrapping around the small of Tooru’s back and Tooru smiles into the kiss, fingers dragging through Hajime’s short hair. Hajime deepens the kiss, pulling Tooru neatly into his lap as he slots their lips together again, hands roaming under the thin fabric of Tooru’s shirt. 

And God, Hajime kisses like he does everything else: bold and determined, and Tooru loves it, loves the quiet way he murmurs Tooru’s name like it’s a prayer.

Tooru pulls back, pressing soft kisses into Hajime’s neck, his jawline, reveling in the soft sound he makes as Tooru mouths a kiss on the base of his throat. 

“Ah- Oikawa,” Hajime murmurs as Tooru slots their lips together once more, “Tooru. Stop.” And Tooru stops, pupils blown wide, lips softly swollen. “I just want to know what you want from me.” 

He wants everything from Hajime, Tooru realizes, but he’s not going to say that unless he knows Hajime feels the same. 

Tooru laces his hands behind Hajime’s neck with a frown. “You first.” He says, and Hajime snorts at him, one hand carding through Tooru’s curls. 

“Well, I, uh.” He pauses, pressing his forehead to Tooru’s shoulder. “I love you, so. There’s that.” And Tooru freezes. Hajime loves him. Hajime loves _him_. 

At his silence, Hajime looks up, vaguely alarmed. 

And Tooru, hands shaking, cups Hajime’s jaw with a smile. 

“I’ve loved you for forever, Hajime.” Tooru says, grinning, and Hajime looks starstruck, gazing at Tooru like he hung the goddamn moon in the sky.

“God, you’re gorgeous,” He murmurs, lightning in his gaze, and Tooru feels a fire start in his gut.

He pushes Hajime down against the couch, slotting their lips together, heat pulsing through his veins. Tooru swallows the soft moan Hajime lets out as his fingers skate down Hajime’s sides before he pulls away with a grin. 

“So I’m gorgeous, huh, Iwa-chan?” He hums against Hajime’s lips. He groans, pulling his hands to his face.

“I’m never going to live that down, am I?” And Tooru tilts his head back and laughs, bright and happy, smiling at the soft rumble of Hajime’s chest as he chuckles.

“No,” Tooru says, and he knows everything is going to be alright, “never.”

  
  



End file.
